The Lover Is Always Getting Lost

The Intellectual

The intellectual is always showing off;
the love is always getting lost.
The intellectual runs away, afraid of drowning;
the whole business of love is to drown in the sea.
Intellectuals plan their repose;
lovers are ashamed to rest.
The lover is always alone, even surrounded with
like water and oil, he remains apart.
The who goes to the trouble
of giving advice to a lover
gets nothing. He’s mocked by passion.
Love is like musk. It attracts attention.
Love is a tree, and lovers are its shade.


Inside Your Own House

I laugh when I hear that the fish in the water is thirsty.

You don’t grasp the fact that what is most alive of all is inside your own house;
and so you walk from one holy city to the next with a confused look!

Kabir will tell you the truth: go wherever you like, to Calcutta or Tibet;
if you can’t find where your soul is hidden, for you the world will never be real.

— Kabir, Ecstatic Poems

The Gift and the Giver


What does not come into man’s imagination is called a “gift” because whatever passes through his imagination is in proportion to his aspiration and his worth. However, God’s gift is in proportion to God’s worth Therefore, the gift is that which is suitable to God, not what is suitable to the imagination or ambition of God’s servant. “What no eye has seen nor ear heard nor has occurred to the mind of man”– that is, no matter how much eyes have seen, ears heard, or minds conceived the gifts you expect of Me, My gift is above and beyond all that.”

– Rumi

Testify to Invisible Love

“If love were only spiritual,
the practices of fasting and prayer would not
The gifts of lovers to one another are,
in respect to love, nothing but forms;
yet, they testify
to invisible love.”

– Rumi, Mathnawi

As you might infer from a few of my previous posts, I’m on a Rumi kick. You can read about Rumi here. Shambala Library has published a fantastic collection of Rumi’s poems and I’ve been wandering through this book a lot ever since I picked it up on a whim. Like all good poetry, his poems trip you up in the midst of day to day life in a way that ushers in wonder and vitality. I’m sure I’ll post more selections because they seem to be never-ending.